


Addiction

by lionwolves



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Doctor (Doctor Who), Dark!Eleven - Freeform, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Light Dom/sub, Rough Sex, Thoschei
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:09:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21842710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionwolves/pseuds/lionwolves
Summary: The Doctor decides to find the woman in the shop who gave his number to Clara, and ends up with much more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Eleventh Doctor/Missy, The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	Addiction

_“Where did you get this number?”_

_“The woman in the shop wrote it down.”_

_“What woman? Who was she?”_

The Doctor doesn’t ask Clara any more about it once she starts traveling with him, but he can’t stop thinking about what woman in the shop gave Clara his number. 

Rather obsessively, he’ll admit, he decides to investigate and follow whichever clues lead him to discover her identity. 

—

“Doctor. This is unexpected.”

The Doctor glares in confusion at the mysterious, striking woman dressed in purple. 

When she removes her hat, he can really see how blue her eyes are, even in the dim light. 

“You’re the woman who gave Clara my number,” He deduces from the obvious details. 

“You’ve found me. Guilty as charged,” The woman says as if she is excited to be discovered by him. 

The Doctor shakes his head. “Who are you?”

“Take a guess, _Theta_.” 

“Koschei?” He says. He hasn’t felt that name on his tongue in centuries. “Master.” 

“Mistress, now,” She corrects. 

“I thought you were dead, but I should know better than that by now,” The Doctor says, taking a quick look around the place that he had found her in. 

Missy nods. “You really should know better.”

“Why did you give Clara my number?” The Doctor inquires. 

“I wanted to put you two together. The perfect match.” 

“Why? What’s wrong with Clara?”

“Does something have to be wrong with her because I put you together? That says a lot about what you think of _yourself_ , Doctor.” 

“What do you know about her? About the other versions of her that have died?” The Doctor suddenly comes to the realization that she must have something to do with it. _“What did you do, Mistress?”_

“What are you talking about?” 

“In the Dalek asylum, there was a girl named Oswin, but it was her. She died saving me.”

Missy scoffs. “Doctor! What were _you_ doing in the Dalek asylum?”

The Doctor ignores her question as he continues. “Then there was a Victorian governess, her name was Clara. It was her again. She died.”

“I have no idea who or what you’re talking about!” Missy claims. 

The Doctor narrows his eyes in disbelief. “So it’s just a pure coincidence that she has died twice, and the reason I reunite with her is because of you?”

“It must be, because I have nothing to do with that.” 

“You’re lying, Mistress,” The Doctor insists, inching closer and closer to her. “And I’m not in the mood for your games. This is serious.” 

“Oh, no, but I like this,” Missy says as she glares into his eyes, not backing down in the slightest. “Am I making you angry, Doctor? Do you want to hurt me? Force me to answer your questions?” 

“No. I won’t be sucked into whatever this is you’re playing at.” 

“Yes, you will.” 

“Tell me what you know or whatever you did. Now,” The Doctor orders. 

“Make me.” 

Those two words send an uncomfortable chill down his spine, but for some reason, he _likes_ it. 

The Doctor roughly pushes Missy against the wall, maintaining eye contact with her.

“You’re full of surprises, Doctor,” Missy says. 

“You talk too much,” He mumbles in irritation. 

“Shut me up, then.”

The Doctor’s lips crash right into hers, and before he knows it, he is taking her roughly against the wall with his hand around her throat and the sound of Missy’s moans in his ear.

Afterwards, it takes him a moment to come back to his senses, but even then, he doesn’t feel an inkling of regret. 

Missy begins to straighten her clothes back. “And to think I wasn’t planning on meeting you just yet. If you hadn’t found me, I might not have had the pleasure.”

“This won’t happen again,” The Doctor tells her, and he means it. 

“Of course not,” Missy says.

_But it does._

—

This is how he starts to spend his time when he isn’t traveling with Clara. 

After he drops Clara off at the Maitlands and makes promises for Wednesday, always _Wednesday_ , he finds her. 

His mistress. 

He has become quite good at tracking her down, because he wants to, he finds that he _needs_ to, and he thinks that part of her must want him to find her, too. 

—

In contrast to the very first time, Missy is usually the dominant one, which is no surprise, but the Doctor _is_ surprised by how much he likes to completely relinquish control to her. 

She pushes him roughly down against the mattress, and ties his arms to the bars of the bed until she decides what to do with him on this particular occasion. 

He knows that he shouldn’t trust her, and he doesn’t, but that only adds to the thrill of it all. 

“Please,” The Doctor begs.

She keeps him right on the edge, teasing and torturing him mercilessly.

“Please, what?” 

“Please, Mistress.”

Missy smirks devilishly. 

The sickly, sweet mix of pain and pleasure makes it intoxicating. 

  
—

They only speak Gallifreyan when they’re together because they’re alone and they can. 

It falls off their tongue as if it hasn’t been years since they had spoken it, at all or to each other.

And when they climax, it is their names in Gallifreyan that they exclaim. 

—

“You bring out the worst in me, Mistress.”

They sit up against the headboard in the king-sized bed of a presidential suite that she has somehow acquired, but he didn’t ask any questions before they fell into it together. 

“It isn’t very difficult to do that, you know. Not with _you_ ,” Missy answers, taking a long drag of a cigarette.

He doesn’t know when she started smoking again, or if she ever stopped when she did before. 

It seems trivial to complain about it, considering that what they’re doing is far more unhealthy. 

As he watches the smoke circulate in the air, the Doctor mulls over what she means by that, whether it rings true, and why it bothers him. 

“You’re thinking too loud,” Missy tells him, exiting the bed.

His gaze follows her intently as she pulls on a silk purple robe to cover herself. 

“Where are you going?”

“More tea,” She replies. “Don’t tell me you’re already attached.”

_He is._

—

_Sometimes_ : he finds her in the middle of what she would call one of her ‘projects’ or rather, her operation to rule and control planets and often entire star systems.

He doesn’t even intervene or try to stop her. Not now.

For now, he just wants her, no matter what it means and what it does to him. 

But he is certain that it’s tearing him apart slowly. 

—

It’s like an _addiction_.

Because he needs it, he can’t get enough of it, he knows it is bad for him, but he can’t seem to stop.

And it feels _good._

—

_Often_ : Before they part ways, the Doctor stays in bed with his arms behind his head and the sheet covering his lower torso and watches Missy get ready.

He finds it intriguing, seeing her as a woman, performing the simplest, most mundane parts of her routine. 

She knows he likes watching her, too, so she pulls on her pantyhose agonizingly slow and turns around to take glances at him while she puts on her makeup in the mirror. 

—

It is an unspoken rule that their respective TARDISes are off limits when they meet.

They must have a neutral place.

At first, it was that extravagant hotel suite, and then at some point, he doesn’t quite know when, it becomes a flat that Missy procured in pre-revolutionary France. 

She always liked that period. 

—

_Sometimes_ : He lays with his face flush against her bare chest while she strokes his hair gently, too gently.

It is a complete contradiction to the absolutely chaotic way they started the evening, but this is necessary in the aftermath. 

They don’t speak or even think too deeply, and they fall asleep peacefully. 

—

Missy’s fingernails make deep scratches across his back when he is on top. 

He buries himself deep inside of her just as he buries his face in her neck and sucks the skin there until it is sore and purple. 

When he comes up for air, he insists on kissing her, which he loves and she pretends to hate, so she bites his bottom lip so hard that he can taste his own blood, but that only spurs him on to a finish. 

—

“This has to stop.”

Missy only hums in response.

“I’m serious,” The Doctor insists. “It _has_ to.”

“But it won’t,” She says, as a matter of fact. “Not yet, at least.”

“Why not?”

“Because you need this,” Missy says. “You need a release.”

“Release?”

Missy turns on her side in the bed to face him where he lays flat on his back. 

“You keep up this... facade,” She trails her finger across his face to emphasize her point. “Because you have to, because you’re afraid to admit what is lurking under the surface.” 

He knows that to be absolutely true.

“With me, you can drop the facade without judgment. You can release all those emotions you think are so bad,” She says, her face close to his.

Instead of responding, the Doctor takes the proximity as an opportunity to move a few inches closer and capture her lips. 

He savors the taste of her because he plans for this to be the last time. 

_It needs to be._

—

It was _always_ him who found her, not the other way around, because she let him, and because she wanted it that way.

Missy wanted this Doctor to need her. 

But when he decides to force himself to stop, to go back to the way things were before, to be _good_ , she decides she can’t just let him go. 

Tracking him down turns out to be harder than she anticipated, because unlike her, he doesn’t want to be found. That doesn’t discourage her.

She can just track his TARDIS with her own, but she needs him alone or there’s truly no point. 

—

“Mistress.”

She watches the Doctor attempt to discreetly change the TARDIS controls to isomorphic just as she rounds the console.

Missy clicks her tongue rhythmically. “Silly Doctor. Naive doctor. Did you really think you could get away from me that easily?”

“I...” 

Before he can continue, Missy places a finger over his lips to quiet him. 

“Shh. You don’t need to explain. I understand. I do, but it’s futile, really.”

He knows that she is right, and accepting that feels like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. 

The Doctor collapses onto his knees in front of her, his hands holding her waist and his head resting against her stomach. 

Missy begins to stroke the back of his head. “My dear Doctor. What am I going to do with you?”

—

He knows that it’ll end at some point. They both do.

But not by him trying to force it to, not by running away from her because he is afraid of what this says about him. 

Inevitably, he’ll die, he’ll _change_ , she’ll change, they’ll lose each other.

In truth, this wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place. As Time Lords, they can tell. They weren’t supposed to meet yet, nonetheless end up together in this way. 

That’s more of a reason for him to want to hold onto her until it is time to let go.

After all, he _hates_ endings.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Missy says, breaking him right out of his thoughts.

He presses a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I know.” 

—

_Expectedly_ : It ends when the Doctor spends 300 years on Trenzalore, knowing that he will die at the end of it, until the very end.

This time, Missy doesn’t come looking for him. 

Perhaps she has heard, or she knows his fate, and wants no part of it.

It isn’t like her to try to save him.

He was never naive enough to think their relationship, or whatever it has evolved into, would ever change that. 

This is when it truly ends for _him,_ but not necessarily for her. 

Either way, it will never be quite the same. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is... different to what I normally write and publish. It started as an experiment, something I was trying out because I was thinking of how Eleven & Missy would work as a Doctor/Master pair, and this came out of that idea exploration. I got really into writing it, so I decided to publish it because why not?


End file.
